


Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Horny on Main for Luka Couffaine

by verfound



Series: Smutember 2020 [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Background Adrien/Kagami, Background Juleka/Rose, Caught in the Act, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, I have no excuse for this one, Interrupted Sex, Luka and Marinette go at it like bunnies, Prompt Fic, Smutember 2020, background Alya/Nino, five times fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27766081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: Five times Marinette and Luka got caught jumping each other’s bones, and one time they really should have yet somehow didn’t (…he thinks?).
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Smutember 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985438
Comments: 7
Kudos: 134





	Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Horny on Main for Luka Couffaine

**Author's Note:**

> The title is all Lani’s fault. She let me steal it. Mal requested Drunkinette be let out of the closet for these, and then after a week of everyone torturing Luka (#WreckLukaWeek) Quick was like “you know what can Luka be the one pouncing? Let’s just see him Lose His Shit for once.” Then Bloody wanted something involving the Dress, and…getting them boned is a group effort here, people. (Also this…does exactly what it says on the tin. We’re leaving the gates swinging with this one – there is absolutely nothing but smut here. xD)
> 
> Also, Idk if anyone else will notice it, but I kinda did when editing, and let’s just assume Mari’s using an IUD or on the pill or something. Considering what a big deal I’ve made about condoms before I need to clarify that they’re still practicing safe sex, even if no condoms actually appear here.

**_i. “Oh, fucking_ ** **gross _, guys!” – Juleka_**

They were going to get caught.

They both knew it, and while she wasn’t necessarily in any state of mind to care about such things, Luka was a lot more sober and thus a lot more aware of…things. _Things_ being the busy club with the packed dance floor barely a hallway away from where they had escaped to for the moment.

And he had been _trying_ , he had. He knew his girlfriend was a lightweight. He knew she was also a horny drunk. He knew, the second Alya started sliding drinks across the table at her, he was fucked. And he had _tried_ , he really had – especially because they still had maybe two acts before Kitty Section was supposed to go on, so as handsy as Marinette was getting he knew he couldn’t reciprocate. _Shouldn’t_ reciprocate. He knew they didn’t really have time.

Because Luka loved fucking Marinette in all ways except quick – which he also loved, just…not as much? Because he always wanted to take his time with her, to fully enjoy the moment, and it was a little hard to do that when you were on a clock. So, regardless of how horny the alcohol was making her, he honestly had no intention of whisking her away until _after_ Kitty Section had performed.

…but then Alya and Nino had left the table to dance, and Juleka had run off with an excuse about needing to check her guitar, and Rose had waited all of two seconds before running after her, and Marinette had maybe waited one second after that before the hand on his thigh had slid up and in and _squeezed_ , and he had snapped.

If she hadn’t been groping him for twenty minutes leading up to the snapping – if she hadn’t been shooting him Those Eyes, or nibbling on her lip the way he liked to, or leaning against him in a show of needing to be heard over the music but really just trying to cop another feel – he might have felt worse about it.

A drunken giggle escaped her as he spun her around and pushed her front against the wall at the back of the club. It was far enough away from the dancefloor to afford them privacy, back by the offices – but the light to the office was dark and Luka knew they _should_ be safe. That’s what he told himself when he bent down to bite at her neck, his hips grinding hard into her ass. The giggle turned into a needy moan as she pressed back into him, the moan cutting off in a gasp when his hand slipped under her skirt, roughly shoving her underwear aside to plunge his fingers inside her dripping cunt. Her hands pressed flat against the wall as she rocked into him, another needy sound escaping her as he licked the spot he’d been nibbling on.

They were so going to get caught.

He hadn’t even made it to the supply closet he’d been aiming for before he’d jumped her – that was still two doors down, and they were still out in the open hallway where anyone could find them.

“Yessss,” she hissed, jerking as his thumb circled her clit. “Fuck me, Luka.”

“That’s the plan, darning,” he said, his voice rough. He squeezed the breast he’d been groping, finding her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt – and holy shit, was she even wearing a bra? – and rolling. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and she moaned as he bit down on her neck. His fingers continued to move inside her, spreading her slickness and reaching to press at all the spots he knew would make her sing. When he hit one of them and she yelped, his hand shot up from her breast to cover her mouth. She bit at his fingers, and a low, dark chuckle came out as he moved to pull her earlobe between his teeth. He flexed his fingers again, brushing against that spot and making her whine. “Shhhh…you don’t want anyone to hear you, darning. We’re kind of exposed out here.”

Her eyes shot open, and he grinned at the glare she shot him. His hand moved back to her chest, but before she could say anything he pressed his mouth to hers in a hard kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed again, and she moaned as he rocked her back into the wall. He took his time with that one, slowly moving his fingers inside as he ground his erection into her ass.

“Luka…” she whimpered when he returned his mouth to her neck. “I need you…”

“You have me,” he said, moaning as one of her hands slid between them to cup against his bulge. “That’s all yours, darning. All yours.”

“So give it to me already,” she huffed, and he chuckled before nipping her neck.

“As you wish,” he teased, and she gasped as he quickly stepped away from her, flipping her before pushing her back against the wall. His mouth crashed into hers, his hips angled away just enough that he could undo his pants. Her hands scrabbled over his, and together they shoved his jeans and boxers down his thighs. He reached around her, grabbing her ass and hoisting her up against him. His cock slid against her as her legs wrapped around his waist, but in the next breath she was reaching between them to guide him home, and they both groaned as the next thrust found him deep inside her.

They were both close, both already so worked up he knew it wouldn’t last long. With the way she was gripping him on every slide, the way she spasmed every time he pressed against that nub, the way she was whimpering against his shoulder as he fucked her into the wall…he knew it would probably only be a matter of moments before either of them (probably both) came.

Which would have been fine, if not for the scream.

Not Marinette’s scream.

_Juleka’s_ scream.

“Oh, fucking _gross_ , guys!” his sister shrieked, louder than either were used to hearing her. He groaned, pressing his face into Marinette’s neck as he froze, his hips flush against her own as he stilled. Marinette’s head jerked up, her mouth dropping open as she gawked at the younger Couffaine. The shock made her clamp down, and the extra pressure around his cock was too much, and despite his mortification his hips snapped back and slammed into her again, his body twitching as he came. He heard Juleka scream again as she realized what he’d just done. “Get a room next time, assholes!”

He heard her heavy boots retreating down the hallway, back towards the dancefloor, but he kept his face against Marinette as his body rode out the orgasm. Juleka was going to kill him. He wanted to kill himself. He…

…Marinette was giggling.

Her arms had moved from his shoulder to wrap around his head, making it a little hard to look up at her anyway. He could feel her shaking around him, though, as well as he could hear the manic laughter in his ear. When he finally tilted his head up and got a good look at her, she was smiling. Her cheeks were still flushed – though that was just as likely from their activities as it was the alcohol – but her eyes were clearer.

“…oops,” she said, and he dropped his head back to her shoulder. Despite everything, he found himself laughing, too.

**_ii. “Don’t mind me! Carry on!” – Rose_ **

Juleka catching them in the act had been…bad. Mortifying. Awkward as hell. He hadn’t been able to have more than a one-word conversation with her for a week after the fact, which wasn’t really good when you lived and worked with someone.

And yet, somehow… _Rose_ catching them had been worse.

It was honestly an accident, too! Luka and Marinette were always so careful around the flat, especially considering Luka lived there with Rose and Juleka. Everyone was aware of how active the others’ sex lives were, but no one wanted any part of that…awareness. That was his sister/her brother, and it was _gross_. So _activities_ – even makeouts – were usually reserved for the bedrooms. Anything beyond a makeout was _definitely_ reserved for the bedroom (and the occasional shower, within reason).

Luka and Juleka had grown up sharing a room. They were all too aware of how thin walls could be, and while both were _aware_ the other was involved with someone that didn’t mean either wanted to be an active witness to it.

Except Juleka and Rose were supposed to be out of town for the entire weekend. They’d left almost an hour ago. And Marinette had stayed over the night before, and maybe they were both taking advantage of the empty flat. It had started innocently enough, with lazy kisses under a shared blanket while she scrolled through a fashion article and he watched an old cartoon, his bowl of cereal forgotten on the table with her coffee rapidly cooling beside it. Lazy kisses had become more heated, and then her phone was forgotten, too, as she crawled onto his lap.

Kissing had led to touching, which had led to a loss of clothes, which had led to slow, lazy lovemaking as Marinette sank down onto his cock. Luka was lost in her, his back leaning on the couch as his hands held onto her hips. He watched her with hazy, hooded eyes as she guided them, rocking with steady, determined thrusts that took him deeper on every pass. Marinette’s hands slipped under his shirt, curling against his stomach as she moved, aware of nothing but the feel of him inside her and the panted breaths below her. Her eyes opened to find his own, and they shared a smile as he pulled her towards him on her next thrust, and she moaned as they were lost in another lingering kiss.

Neither were aware of the world beyond their little bubble, so neither really noticed the jingling of keys in the lock until the door was open and Rose’s voice was carrying down the hall.

“We’re not actually back!” her high voice crashed over them like an icy wave, and both froze as they stared at each other in wide-eyed panic. “We stopped for breakfast before hitting the road, and wouldn’t you know I forgot my…oh.”

They looked up to find Rose standing beside the couch, her hand reaching for the bright pink planner neither had really noticed still sitting on the end table. Her cheeks were pink and turning darker, but there was a delighted smile curling her lips as a manic little giggle escaped her.

“Well, you certainly wasted no time, huh?” she asked, and Marinette groaned as she ducked her face against Luka’s neck. Luka groped blindly for the blanket that usually stayed on the back of the couch, but of fucking _course_ it was missing. A frantic scan of the room found it on the big purple armchair Juleka had brought home from a vintage shop a few months back. Rose was still giggling, and he shot her a desperate little scowl.

But it was _Rose._

He couldn’t just tell Rose to _fuck off_ , not like he could Juleka.

“Don’t mind me!” she giggled, waving her planner at them. “I just needed this! Carry on!”

…suffice to say, the mood had been sufficiently killed. The door had barely closed when Marinette was leaping away from him and darting towards the bathroom, leaving him to drop his head back onto the couch with a groan as his dick sagged in neglected disappointment.

**_iii. “You better make it a good one, Couffaine.” – Alya_ **

“Ok, I get it now.”

Luka looked up from his phone as Marinette collapsed in the chair next to him. He bit down on a laugh when her dress – a ruffled monstrosity that only looked good because she looked good in everything she wore – poofed up around her, her eyes going comically wide as layers of tulle and silk engulfed her like a cloud.

He was reminded of that movie – the one about Greek weddings – and the lead complaining she looked like a _snow beast_.

He chuckled and reached out, helping her smooth the gaudy dress out and finagle _most_ of it under the table. He grinned when he found her face again. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and her smile wide. Even having to maneuver the night in this monster of a dress, she looked wonderful – and she was owning every minute of it.

“Get what, now?” he asked. She fidgeted in her seat, her smile turning sneaky as she reached out and grasped his hand.

“Why you’re always so horny after a show,” she said, her voice dangerous and low. His eyes widened at the sultry look she tossed in, her lips curling deliciously as she leaned back in her chair. The dress rustled and lifted, and he imagined she was crossing her legs beneath it. His eyebrows rose in amusement, and if he shifted in his own seat it was absolutely _not_ because his cock had twitched at the Bedroom Eyes she was giving him.

“Is that so?” he asked, and his voice had definitely dropped an octave. Her eyes left his as she hummed, scanning the room. It was crowded, but the tables were fairly spaced out. Most people were on the dance floor – including Alya and Nino, who had been sharing the table with them – or clustered in groups, talking and eating. Marinette had just finished making her rounds, catching up with old contacts from Gabriel and Bourgeois. The DJ had taken over for the night, and the lighting in the room was low and strobey to accommodate the dancers.

“I _crushed it_ tonight, star,” she purred, stretching back in her chair. His eyebrows rose a little higher when he felt her foot – free of the heels she had been wearing earlier – start to rub along his calf. “Everyone loved my new line. We’re going to be so busy with orders – everyone is. The hospital raised enough to repair the damaged wards and then some.”

Which was good to hear, really. The whole point of this ridiculous fairy-tale themed fashion show and gala was to raise money for a local children’s hospital that had recently suffered damage in a fire. They were here for the kids, and hearing that the night had been successful was wonderful news.

…but Marinette was still giving him those Bedroom Eyes, and her foot was getting closer to his rapidly stiffening cock, and quite honestly he really didn’t care about the kids right then.

“Are you hungry, star?” she asked, inclining her head towards him. “It’s been a long night. You look like you could use a…snack.”

Her foot pressed against the bulge in his pants, and a strained chuckle escaped him. He shot a quick glance around the room before grabbing one of the wrapped mints from the center of the table and dropping it on the floor. She laughed when he quirked an eyebrow.

“Oops,” he said innocently. “I should pick that up.”

…which is how, a few minutes later when _Adrien Fucking Agreste_ plopped down in the chair across from Marinette, Luka found himself under those voluminous skirts, his mouth pressed firmly against her slit with his tongue delving deep between her slick folds.

“Hey, Marinette!” he heard Adrien’s cheerful voice from somewhere above him seconds before he heard the chair scraping back. “I should have figured they’d rope you into this thing. So boring, right? I can’t believe I still have to go to these things.”

Marinette’s answering laugh was a little too high-pitched to be natural, but he doubted Adrien noticed. He loved the guy, but he usually didn’t pick up on things like that. He grinned and grasped her ankle, pinching just hard enough to make her jump. She had pressed her foot against him when he’d tried to stroke himself off, her message clear: _that’s my job later, take care of me now._

“N-no,” she said, coughing to cover up how breathy she sounded. She shifted a little, and he pressed his tongue flat against her, licking long and slow. “It hasn’t been so bad. I’m actually having a… _wonderful_ time.”

Adrien didn’t seem to notice the near-moan she said _wonderful_ in, just as he didn’t notice Luka sucking on her clit under her skirts.

“Oh?” Adrien asked, chuckling. “I ran into Alya and Nino by the bar earlier, so I guess you aren’t completely alone tonight. I thought I saw Luka earlier, too. Where’d he get off to?”

“Nowhere yet,” Marinette said with a snort. Luka pinched her again, almost choking on his groan when she pressed her foot more firmly against his dick. Thankfully, the music was just loud enough – even this far from the dancefloor – that he was fairly certain Adrien hadn’t heard him. “He’s…around.”

“And he left you alone here? Harsh,” Adrien said. There was something about his voice that Luka didn’t like, and from the way Marinette dropped her hand to her lap (an innocent enough gesture to Adrien, but actually to grip his head through her dress) she knew it. “I wouldn’t have left you alone, Marinette.”

“Please,” Marinette said. Her thigh pressed against his cheek, and Luka wondered if she was chiding Adrien or begging him. “I left him alone while I made the rounds. You know how boring industry talk can be. I told him to go get something to eat.”

He pushed his tongue in a bit deeper. She shivered and slumped forward. He heard movement on the table, as if she was reaching for her glass. He smiled, rubbing his hand along her calf. He paused when her foot pushed down again, the hand on his head flexing in warning.

And then he heard it.

“Holy hell, that line was long!” Alya whined.

“Bro!” Nino cried. Luka continued to stroke her, dropping a kiss against her inner thigh when he heard Adrien’s chair scrape back. There was a muffled clapping – a bro hug, he was sure, as Adrien greeted his friend.

“…are you ok, Marinette?” Alya asked, her voice quiet and suspicious. He felt Marinette tense under him, and he pressed his lips to her thigh again when a crazed giggle escaped her. “You look…flushed.”

“O-oh, you know!” Marinette laughed. “I’ve already had more wine than I probably should have. And it’s really hot in here. It’s been a…ah…long night, you…you know?”

He’d started licking her again. Her heel pressed against him, but it was worth it to hear her – feel her – squirm.

“…yeah…” Alya said. He could just see the way her eyes would be narrowed on Marinette, who was probably a lovely shade of red by now.

“And talking to everyone, you know, it’s just a bit…” Marinette jumped when he pressed his thumb to her clit, rubbing slow circles against the nub. Her thighs tightened around his head as she leaned closer to the table. “…bit much. I’m...ah…a bit over…over-stimulated.”

He pulled back, biting his lip to keep in his laugh.

“…oh my fucking God, Marinette, are you serious?!” Alya hissed, suddenly sounding a lot closer. He heard Marinette’s skirts ruffle and saw the black tip of Alya’s shoe step a little too close. He leaned back, squeezing her ankle and trying to move her foot away so he could move more. “Girl. _Girl_.”

“…I’m not even sorry,” Marinette giggled. He scraped his teeth against her thigh, and he heard her cough to cover up the sound she’d wanted to make.

“…yeah, ok, fair,” Alya sighed. He froze when Alya kicked him. “You better make it a good one, Couffaine.”

_I’m trying to_ , he thought, only somewhat bitterly.

She moved back, and he heard her snap.

“Nino!” she called. He heard Nino yelp and assumed she had grabbed him. There was a clattering, like plates had quickly been put down on the table. “Come on – I’m not hungry anymore. Dance with me!”

“Babe, we’ve _been_ dancing,” Nino whined. There was a yelp, and the table above him rattled.

“Did I say dance?” Alya asked, her voice suddenly low. The table shook again. “I meant find a corner. I’m suddenly _very_ thirsty.”

“Oh, I can get you a drink, Alya!” Adrien volunteered, and Luka had to bite his lip again. Marinette squeezed her legs around him when he started shaking with barely suppressed laughter. “The bar’s right over –”

“I’m good, Adrien,” Alya said quickly. “We’ll find you later. Come on, babe. Adrien, I think Kagami was looking for you.”

“And you were mad at Luka for leaving me alone,” Marinette scoffed. Luka heard the chair move again, and he mentally groaned as Adrien sat back down. Marinette squeezed her thighs around his head again, and he pressed a kiss above her knee as he slipped her underwear into his pocket. There was no way he’d be able to get them back on without giving the game away. He took one of the inner layers of her dress, wiped his mouth clean, and gently set her foot back on the ground. From the way she was pressing it into the floor, he could tell she was pissed.

…yeah. He kinda was, too.

He took a fortifying breath, taking a moment to clear his head as Adrien prattled on about something or other. Marinette’s toes had curled, and not in the good way. With a sigh, he grabbed the mint and made his entrance.

“Found it!” he said cheerfully, his Stage Smile on as he popped up from under the table. Marinette looked _furious_ : her eyes were wide, her mouth had dropped open, and her face was as crimson as her supersuit. Adrien started spluttering, choking on whatever he’d been saying. Luka dropped the mint by Marinette’s water glass and placed a hand on her shoulder, bending down to give her a long, slow kiss. She moaned when his tongue slid into her mouth, her hand coming up to grab at his tie. She still looked pissed when he pulled back, and he winked at her. “You need to be more careful, darning.”

“Luka! I thought I saw you earlier!” Adrien laughed. To his credit, he only looked a _little_ uncomfortable. “What…uh…what were you doing under the table?”

Luka wondered if Marinette would kill him if he said _my girlfriend_. He wondered if Adrien would realize what he meant.

“Oh, you know. Marinette,” Luka said with a shrug, and he probably enjoyed the way Adrien’s eyes widened a little too much. Marinette started coughing, and Luka laughed easily as he clapped a hand against her back. “You know Marinette,” he said again, turning his head so only Marinette could see his wink, “such a klutz sometimes. She dropped something. I was just picking it up for her.”

“Oh, right!” Adrien laughed. His face was starting to turn red, and he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well…um…it was great to see you guys. I think Alya said Kagami was looking for me? I’ll…um…I’ll find you later. Have a great time!”

“We have been,” Luka called, waving as Adrien practically ran from their table. He turned back to Marinette with a grin, an apology already in his mouth, but she yanked him back to her and kissed him harshly. He blinked when she released him, grabbed the mint, and dropped it back on the floor.

“Oh, look at that,” she growled. “I am _such_ a klutz sometimes.”

He chuckled and kissed her again.

“Completely hopeless,” he said. He shot one last furtive look around the room before ducking back under the table to finish what he’d started.

…when _Jagged fucking Stone_ shouted her name a few minutes later, Luka realized he might be ending the night in the back of Officer Roger’s cruiser instead of Marinette’s bed.

**_iv. “Ladies first, b’y.” – Anarka_ **

Their getting caught would one hundred percent be Luka’s fault the next time, and he was only a little sorry. It was just that he’d been fantasizing about having her on the Liberty since…well, since he’d first started thinking he might actually get to keep her in his life – that she wanted to be a part of his, _romantically_ – which had been well before he’d actually moved off the boat – but they hadn’t actually reached that level of physical intimacy until well _after_ he’d moved off the boat, so…

It was no different, he figured, than when she was still living at the bakery. He’d had quite a few fantasies of making her scream his name on her balcony, of fucking her against the chimney or watching her fall apart as he finger-fucked her in the lounger she kept there. When she’d finally let him go down on her up there one night…she had been too mindful of her parents and the surrounding city to be as loud as he’d hoped, but the crashing of a pesky stray Chat falling off a nearby roof as he swung by on patrol had more than made up for it.

He’d be lying if he said he’d never imagined it. Waking up with Marinette in his arms, slowly rocking into her as the river rocked beneath them…making love to her under the stars (or what passed for them in the city) while the river breeze danced over their bare skin…and ok, maybe a heated makeout that turned into more against the counter in the galley…

So maybe he’d seen an opportunity when his Ma had said she’d be going out of town for a few days – his seanair had taken a bad fall, and she was heading back to Stornoway while he recovered – and had asked him to boatsit for her. Maybe he’d been looking forward to a few days alone in one of his favorite creative spaces. And maybe he’d been excited about a few days with a space where he could be with Marinette without worrying about roommates or parents or…

And maybe they’d gotten a little carried away. And maybe they’d lost track of time, and maybe he hadn’t seen the text where his ma had told him his seanair was fine (just a dramatic old codger) and she’d be coming home early. Because he’d been _very_ distracted by the sight of Marinette stretching over the counter as she reached for something on the other side, and he’d dropped his phone onto the couch before he could read the text, and the next thing either of them knew he’d been behind her, his arms snaking around her middle as he bent to pepper kisses along her back. She’d laughed and tried to tell him to get off – that she had actually dropped something, and could he please just let her pick it up – but then he was grinding against her ass, and his hand had found a breast, and she hadn’t said much of anything as she pushed back into him. One thing had led to another, and the next thing either of them knew she was on her back with her legs spread on either side of his head, her feet braced against the stools on either side of him as he ate her out.

…they were in the galley, after all, and he was just trying to enjoy one of his favorite meals, right?

And it was entirely too easy to lose himself in her. To press his face closer to her slit as her hand fisted in his hair, to curl his fingers and push in deeper as his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked, to draw his tongue along her slick folds as he pulled back to press a kiss against her thigh. He grinned up at her when her hand slid from his hair, her eyes heavy-lidded and lust-drunk as she smiled back. The hand that had been massaging her ass reached for her, and their fingers linked together. She was his favorite instrument, and he knew exactly how to play her. Which spots to hit to draw out those keening whines, which tempo to strike to have her panting and arching into him, what strokes would bring her right to the edge before sending her over…he loved the song that was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life memorizing and perfecting it.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered to her, and she giggled as she squeezed his hand.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” she teased, and he grinned at her before leaning back towards her core, keeping his eyes on hers as his tongue darted out to lick a long, slow line against her. Her head fell back, a breathy sigh leaving her lips as she pushed herself closer to him. “God, yes. Just like that, Luka.”

“So good,” he murmured against her, and she gasped as he slipped his fingers back inside her, curling them towards himself to hit that spot that had her bucking against him. She whimpered, and he hummed. “Sing for me, Mari.”

“C-close,” she panted, shifting restlessly beneath him. Her grip tightened on his hand, and he withdrew his fingers to grip her hip, trying to steady her as he pushed his tongue deeper into her. Her leg moved, her knee pressing into his shoulder before her foot flattened against his back, and he nudged her clit with his nose to make her jerk again. “Y-yes, just…just a little…”

There was a sharp _thunk_ beside them, loud enough to jolt them out of their haze, and Luka raised his head to see what she had knocked over. He blinked stupidly at the tub of disinfectant wipes that had appeared by her hip. Familiar fingers, tipped with turquoise nail polish and covered in rings, curled around the lid. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his brain tried to catch up with what he was seeing.

“Lu-Luka? Why’d you…oh my God,” Marinette squeaked, her voice suddenly very small, and his eyes finally followed the hand on the wipes, up the familiar coated arm, to the equally – _painfully_ – familiar smirk of _his fucking mother_. A nail tapped against the lid of the plastic container, and Luka felt his stomach drop somewhere around his ankles. Or lower. It had passed straight through the hull and was sinking into the Seine below them.

“Well, at least ye be mindin’ th’ few manners I tried t’ teach ye, b’y,” the Captain quipped, her nail tapping the lid again. The _click_ of her nail against the plastic was painfully loud in the sudden silence of the room. “Ladies first ‘n all that.”

“Oh my God,” Marinette squeaked again, ripping her hand from his to cover her burning face with her hands as she curled up and in on herself. His hand had dropped back to her hip, and he squeezed reflexively – comfortingly, he hoped. His mouth was moving wordlessly, his brain still not fully caught up to the fact that _Marinette was half-naked beneath him, his face was a mess because it had just been shoved against her cunt, and his mother was still standing over them and smirking like…_

“Just make sure ye clean up after yerselves,” the Captain said, turning away in a swish of greatcoat and braid. “I still eat there, y’know.”

**_v. “…you can_ ** **do _that?” – Adrien_**

It had been a _good night_.

A _really_ good night.

The show had been _amazing_. Five encores. The crowd couldn’t get enough of the band. Jagged had surprised everyone by coming to the show, and when the crowd wouldn’t stop he’d slid out on his knees halfway through Luka’s guitar solo and led the band in _another_ two encores. And the entire time, Marinette had stood in the wings, helping with quick-changes and quickly mending rips if needed but all the while watching him with shining eyes.

He’d been flying high – he still was. It had been one of the best shows of his career to date. And when they’d finally walked off stage, he’d blown right past Jagged and Penny, grabbed Marinette’s hand, and tugged her back to the greenroom. Jagged’s raucous laughter had followed them, reminding them to _lock the goddamned door and hurry it up – drinks on me!_

Marinette was right. He usually was horny as hell after a show, and it had been a _really good show_.

The door had barely closed behind them before he was pushing her against it, his mouth sealed to hers as he scooped her up and rocked against her. She started giggling, which made it a little difficult to properly kiss her, so he started trailing kisses down her neck instead. She was wearing a red halter top that had shimmered in the lights all night, and he wanted nothing more than to rip it off of her.

(…and he would have, if she hadn’t already given him a firm _Talk_ earlier that month about the number of clothes she’d had to replace because he tended to get… _exuberant_.)

“God, I need you,” he rasped, grinding her against the door. She gasped as she felt the evidence of that need pressing into her, her hands knotting in his hair and giving a sharp tug.

“Down,” she said, pushing a heel against his ass. He made a noise – somewhere between desperate and annoyed – and she started laughing again. “Luka. Pants.”

“I fucking hate clothes,” he growled. She shivered at his voice, and then she was tugging his mouth away from her chest to kiss him hard. She used her leverage against the door to push him back, pulling his face with her as she slid down his body. Her hands found his belt, and then the kiss was over as she tugged and spun them. His breath left him in a whoosh as she pushed him against the door, and he laughed as she leaned up to nip at his jaw with a grin. “I fucking love you, though.”

“The feeling is quite mutual, star,” she purred. His pants and boxers were already around his knees, her hand already wrapped around his cock and pumping in a slow, steady motion. Her lips were back on his jaw, and he groaned as his head fell back against the door. “I want you in my bed later, but I think I can take care of this real quick. For now. Jagged’s expecting us, after all.”

“Stop talking about my dad and blow me already,” he groaned, his grip tightening on her hips. She leaned back, just enough that he could see the stern look in her eyes, and gave him an extra hard squeeze. His lips twisted in a grin. “…please.”

“Good boy,” she said, her hand resuming its glide along his throbbing cock. He slumped back against the door, his hips angling towards her as she stroked him.

“God, yes…” he sighed. She rubbed her thumb along his tip on the upsweep, spreading the fluid that was already leaking there, and his knees nearly gave out on him. She giggled as her free arm wrapped around his hips, tugging him against her.

“Maybe we should move to the couch,” she teased. “You have had a long night, after all. You worked _so hard_.”

He wasn’t entirely sure how they made it from the door to the couch, though. He knew she had started to move away from him, and he had started to chase after her, but in his lust-addled state he had forgotten the tight pants still hanging around his knees. He had barely registered the stumble before she was scooping him up, and he nearly came right then as she carried him across the room. Somehow she got them to the couch (which wasn’t surprising, because it was _Marinette_ ), and the next thing he knew she was kneeling between his knees, his hands fisted in her hair as she bobbed her head along his length.

“Fuck, yes,” he hissed, his head falling back against the couch as she moved. She hummed around him, and his hips jerked when she brought a hand up to massage his balls. He was so close…there was no way he was going to last at this rate, if she kept…

Two things happened simultaneously.

Marinette did that _thing_ with her tongue that was always guaranteed to make him nut, and a loud moan slipped past his lips as he jerked forward with his release.

And the door opened, the bright, cheery voice of _Adrien fucking Agreste_ calling out in greeting.

“Luka! You in here? Great show, man! You…” Adrien froze, his eyes blowing wide as they landed on Marinette, on her knees, blowing him. Luka’s head snapped up, his own eyes wide as they locked on Adrien, but he was still coming and Marinette was still sucking, moaning as she swallowed everything he had to give her. His fingers twisted in her hair, trying to pull her back, to bring her attention to their unwanted guest. She finally moved away from him, lightly scraping her teeth against him as she did so. If he’d had anything left, he probably would’ve come again. “…killed it.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at Adrien’s voice, but Luka was suddenly less interested in Adrien and more interested in the bit of cum that had dribbled over her lip. She turned to look at Adrien, even as Luka was choking out her name, and she shot their old friend an annoyed look as she wiped her lips with her thumb. Adrien’s mouth was moving wordlessly as she popped that thumb into her mouth and sucked.

“…oh my God,” Adrien finally said. Luka noticed the poor guy’s pants were suddenly obscenely tight, and his hand had a white-knuckled death grip on the door. “You can _do_ that?!”

…and bless his poor heart, but Luka honestly wasn’t sure if Adrien meant blowjobs in general or just that _Marinette_ could.

“Adrien,” Marinette bit, her voice clear and commanding – her _Ladybug_ voice – if a little husky from… “Can’t you fucking _knock?”_

**_vi. “…did you hear that?” – Dingo_ **

For someone who had grown up on a boat, Luka was finding his balance that night precarious at best. They were on solid land and he was staggering, nearly toppling as his incredibly sexy girlfriend (…no, that wasn’t right, she wasn’t his _girlfriend_ anymore, she was…) stumbled into him with a giddy giggle. God, he loved her giggle. Her laugh was music – her voice killed him – but there was something about her giggles that just set him buzzing like a livewire. His back hit the wall, and he laughed stupidly as her fingers started walking up his chest.

“L…Lu…Lulu,” she giggled, and he realized he had to be drunker than he’d thought if he didn’t even try to correct her. He had no problem snapping at Dingo any time _he_ called him ‘Lulu’, after all. “I am going to _jump your bones_ , Lulu.”

God, yes. Please. Jump away.

“…once I remember how to…how do you jump, Lu?” she asked, turning wide eyes up to him.

He snorted as she gave a little hop, but she didn’t land on her feet right and she ended up collapsing against his chest. They both started snickering, and he bent his forehead towards her own.

“Not…not like that, darning,” he said. His hand slipped along the curve of her ass, gliding along the leather of her miniskirt. She’d dressed to kill him tonight, and he was loving it. His searching fingers found creamy skin, and her breath hitched as he ran a feather-light touch along her thigh. “But please, continue. Totally up for bone-humping. Humping?” He frowned at her, and she started giggling again. “Hump.” His grin turned a little wolfish, and he bent to her ear to croon, “My hump. My lovely lady humps.”

“Oh my God, Luka,” she snorted, dropping her head to his shoulder. His other hand slipped under the shimmery red halter tied loosely at her neck, moving up her back to hold her closer. His fingers danced along her skin as he kissed along her neck, and she shivered. “Keep…keep doing that.”

“We gotta be quiet, though,” he whispered, and her giggle cut off in a moan as he licked her shoulder. He started snickering again as he tried to shush her, the sound coming out stuttered. “Quieter, Mari.”

There were a lot of people just down the hall, including her parents and grandparents and his sister and ma and their friends and…it was a big party. Why was it a big party?

Her hands tangled in his hair, which caught on her ring when she went to slide her left hand down to cup his cheek. To kiss him better, because they’d been kissing, and even the little painful tug wasn’t enough to distract him from that. He _really_ liked kissing her. But the ring…the party…right. Because she wasn’t his _girlfriend_ anymore.

At least she wasn’t _just_ his girlfriend anymore.

She was his _fiancée._

And wasn’t that just something?

He grabbed her ass and tugged her up, and she squealed into his mouth as she flailed a moment. Her legs wrapped haphazardly around his waist, her arms grabbing at his shoulders, and he laughed as he slumped against the wall. His pants were tight. So tight. He needed to get rid of them, but he couldn’t easily do that without dropping Marinette, and he also didn’t want to drop Marinette. Never that.

“Lu…Lulu,” she gasped, her hand shimmying between them to fiddle with the button of his jeans. Apparently she agreed with him about the _needing to lose his pants_ thing. “Why aren’t you fucking me?”

“Trying,” he grunted, nipping at her neck as her hand slipped into his jeans. Her fingers wrapped around his dick, and he groaned as she began stroking him. She still wasn’t helping his pants situation.

“Try harder,” she sing-songed in his ear, squeezing him tight – and he lost any semblance of balance and composure at that. His knees gave out on him, and they crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs and drunken giggles. God, he was so drunk…but he honestly wasn’t sure how much had been the alcohol (there had been a _lot_ , as Dingo and Alya kept shoving drinks at them all night because “It’s _your_ party!” and “Loosen up!” and…) or the high he always got off his incredibly sexy gir… _fiancée._ God, he loved how that sounded.

And soon enough it would change to _wife_ , and didn’t that sound even better?

“S-sorry!” said fiancée/ _future wife_ squeaked, giggling stupidly into his chest.

“Are you –” he tried to ask, but his eyes flew open and locked on her own wide-eyed stare at the voice on the other side of the door.

“…did you hear that?” Dingo asked in the hall. Marinette removed her hand from his pants and pressed her finger against her lips, shushing him a little louder than she probably should have for how close Dingo sounded.

“Jagged lost Fang twenty minutes ago,” they heard Brielle sigh. “And half the band is drunk and getting up to God knows what. We’ve also lost the guests of honor. It could’ve been _anything_ , Ding.”

“No, but it sounded like…” Dingo started, but something cut him off – or something cut off Luka’s concentration, because Marinette was working on his pants again, and she was kissing him, and why was he paying attention to anything but the incredibly sexy, incredibly horny fiancée – _fiancée!_ – in his lap?

“We have to be _quiet_ ,” she whispered – loudly – at him. “Can you keep quiet, Lulu?”

“Can you?” he challenged, biting back a moan as she lowered her head to his dick and swallowed him whole. She giggled around him, and his fingers tangled in her hair. She pulled off of him with a wet _pop_ , and he smirked down at her. She rested her cheek against his thigh, and he shivered as her tongue darted out to lick lazily along his shaft.

“That’s not quiet,” she giggled. He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when Dingo started talking again.

“Seriously, I know I just heard –” Dingo started, but Brielle’s groan cut him off.

“Ding, there are like a million rooms back here and a million people out there,” Brielle snapped. “It’s a _celebrity engagement party_. People get drunk and stupid and high on the romance of it all. I’m sure at least one couple has snuck off for a quick shag somewhere back here. I can tell you for a fact Alya was blowing Nino in the coat closet ten minutes ago. Don’t think about it, don’t worry about it, don’t –”

Luka’s head thumped back against the door as he moaned loudly. It just wasn’t fair: Marinette knew _exactly_ how to bring him to his knees… _literally_ …and she was playing dirty. She removed her mouth from him again, snickering as she pushed herself up and crawled into his lap. She’d lost her underwear at some point, and he hissed as she lowered herself over his dick. She kissed him – or tried to, except she was still giggling, and neither were very successful at the kissing or the quiet thing.

“Th-they’re gonna _hear us_ ,” Marinette snickered in his ear. He would have replied, except she sunk onto him at that moment, and he pressed his face against her shoulder in a poor attempt to muffle his moan. His hands lodged onto her hips, tugging her closer, and her mouth stilled against his neck as a sharp, needy little sound escaped her. “L-Luka!”

Dingo and Brielle had stopped talking in the hallway. He hadn’t heard them walk away, but he hadn’t been able to hear much of anything beyond Marinette’s gasping breaths in his ear. She was moving against him in earnest, her arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as she panted desperate little pleas against his neck. Words like _yes_ and _more_ and _so good_ , words that had him lifting onto his knees to slam into her – and overbalance and send them tumbling backwards…forward…back to the ground, whatever. She was beneath him instead of over him, and he was thrusting back into her, and her legs were coming up to wrap around his waist, and he didn’t care who was in the hallway or if they heard them. He was lost in her, drunk on her words and warmth and the feeling of her surrounding him. Her nails were scratching over his shirt, down his back, and her lips were on his, and she was making that keening little whine that let him know she was _so close_ …

“Sh-shhhh,” he panted in her ear, grinning as he nipped at her lobe. She whined again, and he nudged his nose against her neck. “Quiet, remember?”

“Fuck you,” she gasped, and he pressed his face against her skin to smother his laugh. He jerked his hips sharply into her own, making her whine again.

“You are,” he teased. Her answering laugh cut off in a moan, and he cursed as he felt her tightening around him. “God, yes…that’s it, darning…come for me…”

“L-Lu…” she gasped, her back arching into him as he pulled back and pushed in deeper, harder. Her hands fisted against his back as she clung to him, and after another harsh thrust he was stilling against her, his body twitching as he came. After a moment he slumped against her, panting, a stupid smile on his face as he nuzzled his face against her chest. She giggled, his breath tickling her skin (that halter top was positively _sinful_ and definitely his favorite: she didn’t usually wear shirts cut that low), and combed her fingers through his hair. He found her other hand, linking their fingers together and smiling wider when he felt the cool metal of her ring. Because she wasn’t just his girlfriend anymore. She was his _fiancée,_ and they were getting _married_ , and…

“Ok,” he heard Dingo snap from a short distance away from the door. His eyes snapped up to Marinette’s, and they both bit down on their giggles as they heard his boot stomp against the floor. “I _know_ I heard something that time!”

(…they finally got themselves cleaned up and presentable and back out to the party with just enough time for her parents to wheel out the five-tiered cake they’d spent all day perfecting. They stood among their family, friends, and coworkers as they all cheered and congratulated them, and Marinette pressed herself up to his side in a fit of still-kinda-drunk giggles, and he’d been so busy smiling stupidly at her he didn’t notice Brielle sidle up beside him with a knowing glint in her eyes. He definitely heard her remind him to zip up his fly, but thankfully no one else noticed because that was around the time Fang made her grand re-appearance by crashing into the cake.)


End file.
